If It Were You
by Casey Redbird
Summary: What if, in the Hunger Games, Gale's name had been reaped instead of Peeta's? What if he'd been chosen for the Games and gone in with Katniss? This is what I think would have happened had that. Katniss/Gale. Much more than a one-shot. Rated T for some swearing and teen violence. Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games or any of Suzanne's amazing characters.
1. Chapter 1

**Alright, Tributes.**

**This is my first THG fanfic so bear with me. Don't get too resistant.**

**Otherwise, enjoy!**

**Chapter One**

_Katniss_

We walk around the Seam in silence. I don't like that Gale took a dig at Madge, but he's right, of course. The reaping system is unfair, with the poor getting the worse of it. You become eligible for the reaping the day you turn twelve. That year, you name is entered once. At thirteen, twice. And so on until you reach the age of eighteen, the final year of eligibility, when you name goes into the pool seven times. That's true for every citizen in all twelve districts in the entire country of Panem. But here's the catch. Say you are poor and starving as we were. You can opt to add you name more times in exchange for tesserae. Each tesserae is worth a meager year's supply of grain and oil for one person. You may do this for each of your family members as well. So at the age of twelve I had my name entered four times. In fact, every year I have needed to do this.

So now, at the age of sixteen, my name will be in the reaping twenty times. Gale, who is eighteen and has been either helping or single-handedly feeding a family of five for seven years, will have his name in forty-two times. Gale and I divide our spoils, leaving two fish, a couple of loaves of good bread, greens, a quart of strawberries, salt, paraffin, ad a bit of money for each.

"See you in the square,"I say.

"Wear something pretty,"he says flatly.

...

People file in silently and sign in. Twelve-through eighteen-year-olds are herded into roped areas marked off by ages, the oldest in front, the young ones, like Prim, toward the back. Family members line up around the perimeter, holding tightly to one another's hands. I find myself standing in a clump of sixteen's from the Seam. We all exchange terse nods then focus our attention on the temporary stage that is set up before the Justice Building. It holds three chairs, a podium, and two large glass balls, one for the boys and one for the girls.

I stare at the paper slips in the girls' ball. Twenty of them have Katniss Everdeen written on them in careful handwriting. Just as the town clock strikes two, the mayor steps up to the podium and begins to read. It's the same story every year. Taking the kids from our districts, forcing them to kill one another while we watch-this is the capitol's way of reminding us how totally we are at their mercy. To make it humiliating as well as tortuous, the capitol requires us to treat the Hunger Games as a festivity, a sporting event pitting every district against the others. The last tribute alive receives a life of east back home, and their district will be showered with prizes, largely consisting of food. All year, the Capitol will show the winning district gifts of grain and oil and even delicacies like sugar while the rest of us battle in starvation.

"It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks,"tones the mayor.

Bright and bubbly as ever, Effie Trinket trots to the podium and gives her signature, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" Through the crowd I spot Gale and his forty-two names in that big glass ball and how the odds are not in his favor. He must know this, too, because his face darkens and he looks away. "But there are still thousands of slips," I wish I could whisper.

It's time for the drawing. Effie Trinket says as she always does. "Ladies first!" and crosses to the glass ball with the girls names. She reaches in, digs her hand in deep into the ball, and pulls out a slip of paper. I'm feeling so nauseous and desperately hoping that it's not me, that it's not me, that it's not me.

Effie Trinket crosses back to the podium, smoothes the slip of paper, and reads out the name in a clear, voice. And it's not me.

It's Primrose Everdeen.

My entire body freezes and I feel that feeling, the feeling you'd feel right before a storm- like you know something deadly is about to happen. Accusations and hatred fly across the room and whip between the stage and I. I cannot move, cannot breathe, cannot watch, as my sister shoves her way bravely past the staring crowd. I am frozen. I am a statue. What do I do? What do I do? _What do I do?_

And then I catch the sight of Prim walking toward the stage. The back of her blouse has come untucked.

_Tuck your tail in, little duck._ It's this notion that unfreezes me, and I'm pushing through the crowd, trying to reach her. "Prim!" The cry is almost stuck in my throat. "Prim!" Peacekeepers try to apprehend me, but I won't stop.

"I volunteer!" I gasp. "I volunteer as tribute!"

There's some confusion on the stage. District 12 hasn't had a volunteer in ages. But apparently it's allowed. Haymitch Abernathy slurs, "Let her volunteer!"

"Come on up," Gale says in a strangled voice as he hoists me onto the stage. I didn't see him anywhere, but I know he was there as soon as I volunteered. Like always. At my side.

This notion makes me want to cry.

"What's your name?" Effie lowers the microphone to my lips so that I can talk. I barely get the words out, but I get them out: "Katniss Everdeen."

"Give a round of applause for Katniss!" Effie cries.

To their credit, District 12 does not applaud. They wouldn't applaud for the Capitol in any case. But the next thing they do touches my heart. Each one of them, at the exact same time, presses their three middle fingers to their lips and holds them out to me. It's an ancient gesture of love.

I bite my lip before I can do something stupid like cry.

"Let's move on to the boys," Effie says, completely ignoring the gesture. She roughs around in the lottery box. Her hand hesitates on a slip, but she picks another one.

All of District 12 is holding its breath. Who could it be?

And then she calls the name and my life completely changes. For the worse.

"Gale Hawthorne!"

This time my body doesn't freeze like before. This time, my eyes close, and suddenly I'm standing before a crowd of people, but this time I'm on a stage in the Capitol. I've just won the Hunger Games. And Gale isn't with me to celebrate.

This time tears do streak down my face as Gale shoves his hands in his pockets, licks his lips, and comes smoothly up to the stage. He won't look at me, but I can see the fear in his eyes. Only one of us can win this.

The other has to die.

...

We're taken into the Justice Building to say our final goodbyes. Gale is taken to a separate room- I won't say goodbye to him until he dies, or I die. Maybe not even then.

Prim and my mother come to visit. Prim looks older. Haunted. Worry and fatigue have aged her. She does not look like the same girl I volunteered for just seconds ago. She throws her arms around me. "Katniss," she sobs. Tears stream down her pale but beautiful little face.

"Prim," I whisper back, shaking my head as I see her blouse has come untucked again. "Tuck your tail in, little duck," I sigh, fixing the blouse.

She almost giggles, but tears are still running down her face.

I turn to my mother, glaring at her disrespectfully. But I haven't cared about respecting her since my father died. "Take care of her," I growl.

"I will," she promises.

"No." I let go of Prim and stand before her, grabbing her shirt and pulling her close to me. She doesn't make any reaction; she just looks bored. "You will care for her because if she dies I promise I will come back and kill you personally. Do you understand?"

"I understand," she says in a dull monotone.

I hesitate at this part, searching within myself to see if I mean it, and then speak when I realize I do. "Take care of yourself, too. I don't want to have to live in a group home."

She nods. "You, too. Survive. You're strong. I think there's a good possibility-"

"No!" I shut her up before she can continue. I do not want to be filled with false hope that could never be confirmed, that could never be seen. "No. I don't want to think like that."

"Okay." She hugs me tightly, something I didn't expect, and kisses my cheek. "I love you, Katniss."

"I love you, too." I sigh and disentangle myself from her as the Peacekeepers walk in, commanding for them to leave. They do, looking back at me warily.

To my surprise, the next visitors are faces I haven't seen in years. I see the first face every day, but I guess I don't really pay attention as much as I should. And the other face stirs something within me, something that seemed to die when I saw him last.

Peeta Mellark and his father step into the room. His father holds a box of what looks like cookies, a delicacy I was never allowed because they were too expensive. He hands me the cookies wordlessly. I open the box. There are only two inside, but the gesture is so caring that a lump forms in my throat.

"We came to wish you good luck," Peeta says. The sound of his voice sends that feeling through me as I remember the day he saved my life. But I don't dwell on that too long.

I wonder if the Games would've been different if he'd volunteered for Gale. But he wouldn't have volunteered for Gale, so I know I shouldn't look at possibilities.

"Well, thank you," I say politely, turning to his father. "And thank you for the cookies. I'm sure they'll be very good."

"You're welcome," he nods, turning and ushering Peeta forward. Peeta stares at me for a minute more before turning and following his father.

The boy who saved my life exits, and I wonder if it'd be any better with him as a major part.

The boy with the bread.

Eventually I am escorted from the room, onto the train. Gale and I hug instantly, our contact feeling beautiful and warm. I can feel his racing heartbeat against my chest.

"We'll be okay, Catnip," he whispers.

We stay like that for a while, staring out the window as the train pulls away and District Twelve is left behind, our only home abandoned without even our goodbye.

**Hey, guys. I know this is the first chapter and it's a work in progress, but you have to review! Tell me if you love it or hate it. Tell me how you feel about Gale being selected.**

**I cannot tell you when the next chapter'll be posted, because I simply don't know, just like I don't know when the next chapter for Hidden will be posted, even though I can tell you that the next Hidden chapter should be pretty good. It's Zoey, Kalona and some other people. When the kids finally arrive in Italy, what happens?**

**However, I updated The Mark of Athena today as well. I'd been working on that one for a while, and I finally got it updated. You Heroes of Olympus fans can go check that out.**

**My Twilight fanfiction Screw Bella was updated too. I haven't updated that one in a while, and I figured I'd give you guys a little dose of sparkling vampire.**

**Review, please! *three-fingered gesture* LOL.**

**XOXO,**

**Casey**


	2. Chapter 2

**2**

As I awaken the next morning, the sun seems to usher itself into the train, almost blinding me. I blink, determined to see around it, and stagger my way out of my compartment. Gale is sitting at the dining room table, staring down at it. When he hears me coming, he looks up and smiles. "Hey, Catnip."

"Hey," I say, smiling back at him and taking my seat beside him. At least if I do not win these Games, he might. At least one of us could survive. Both of us are good with bows. Both of us can hunt.

"There anything expensive to eat here?" I ask, staring at the table. My question is answered as I take in the long row of breads, cakes, and all sorts of things I've never seen before in my life. "Um... I don't know where to start."

Gale laughs beside me. "I didn't either. I was hoping you would."

"Nope." My voice shifts to the smooth Capitol cadences. "I'm just a silly tribute. Wouldn't know anything about dining in the Capitol!"

"Well, then I'll have to teach you." Effie steps up, sitting before us. Something about her face looks different, less... Capitol, and I realize she's taken off some of her makeup.

"Good morning, Effie," I say politely. Gale echoes me.

"Good morning, Katniss," she says. "Good morning, Gale." She smiles at us. "Oh, it's just beautiful that you're here. I know it's only for a little while, and it's not on very pleasant circumstances, but you get to enjoy _all this._" Her hand gestures toward the food on the table, and my smile fades at the reminder that in just a few short weeks, Gale and I may be dead.

I turn my head to my best friend, and his smile has faded, too. There's nothing he wouldn't do to protect me. He'd give his own life for mine, and I'd do the same. But what if we end up being the last two tributes? I can't kill him. I can see that right now.

"I'm sorry," Effie whispers, noticing our silent exchange. "I'm going to go find Haymitch. He's probably in the bar car." She stands, turning her back to us, her heels clicking down the train. I watch her leave for a second, and then turn my eyes back to Gale. "She wouldn't know," I tell him. "She's never going to get picked."

"It's unfair!" he snaps, and I jump, surprised by his sudden anger. "The Capitol..." He takes a deep breath, realizing that we are on one of their trains. "We can talk about this later."

I nod, staring out the window and wondering just what he was going to say.

Haymitch walks into the room, and the first smell that hits my nose is the scent of liquor. It's strong, as if he bathes in it. He doesn't look like much, and as he walks to us staggers and nearly trips a couple of times, but he successfully makes it to his seat in front of me. He stares at me distastefully for a moment, and I wonder what I've done to make an enemy before I've even gone into the Games.

Haymitch looks like one of the people who has a permanent scowl. I'm familiar with those people, because sometimes I am one of them. He doesn't say a word for a long while, taking another sip from the large bottle in his hand. "Where's the ice?"

"I don't... I don't know," I stutter nervously. "I've never been here before."

"You've gotta know where the damn ice is," he snaps, sitting down in front of me, his eyes completely engrossed on the bottle of liquor before him. His anger makes my anger flare up, and I stare at him, irritated now.

"So are you gonna help us?" Gale demands after a long and awkward silence.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, kid," Haymitch slurs, rolling his eyes (or at least attempting to). "So... eager. Give me a minute to wake up, kid."

I'm irritated now- I do not like for people to tell me what to do. Gale and I lock eyes and Gale stands. "I think maybe we need to take that from you." He reaches for the drink, but Haymitch kicks his hand away much faster than I believed a drunk person was capable of. I can almost see fear in his eyes, like taking the alcohol would be taking his life, and know beyond any doubt this man is an alcoholic.

I stare at Gale, and tell him with my eyes: _no. _He seems to register this, and stands back reluctantly, his shoulders still squared in preparation for a fight. But I know Haymitch would be too drunk to win, and I am right as I watch him try to get himself together. "I think I'll go finish this back in my room. It's quieter there, more peaceful," he slurs. Turning away from us, Haymitch walks back to his room, his collar half-off and his admittedly impressively-ironed shirt ruined with the stains of liquor and saliva.

"I'm going to go talk to him." Gale stands up, blowing a strand of hair from his eyes.

"No, Gale. There's no point. He's too drunk to listen to you."

"He's going to have to listen at some point." Even as I shake my head, Gale walks bravely out of the train room, his face set in a determined scowl, and I know he wants nothing more than to win these Games. But I don't see any sadness in Gale's features. He doesn't want to win alone. He wants me to win with him.

And that's just not possible.

I stare straight ahead, thinking about how the Hunger Games would be if we could have two victors. Lovers, brothers, sisters, friends... all of the above could have a chance to continue living. And then they'd be out of the reaping for life, so they'd never have to worry about losing each other. But I doubt Gale and I are going to make it out of the Games together, so Gale's dream is just that- a dream. It will never become reality, will never be more than a dirty little whisper in the back of my brain.

But I can't help but desire, and hope, and I purse my lips and imagine another world, a world where there was no Hunger Games or Capitol in general. A world where people could live in harmony and peace without worrying that their best friend was going to die at some point.

A world where Gale could be safe.

_So, finally. The second chapter of If It Were You is up. I'm following a new playlist method wherein each chapter has a song to go with it. The first chapter was "One Engine" by the Decemberists, which was actually from the THG soundtrack. The second chapter's song is "Love Story" by Taylor Swift, and you'll see why later on in the book._

_See you guys whenever I decide to write chapter 3!_

_XOXO,_

_Casey_


	3. Not a Chapter- Profile

Hey, guys, go read my profile now. I have some big news for you. Read it please.

Happy reading!

XOXO,

Casey


	4. Chapter 3

**3**

The following morning, Gale and I wake up to Haymitch-vomit all over the floor. It's red and green and some other color I don't want to look at. I can tell it's his because he's slouched over it, his face red, his eyes bloodshot. I call Effie's name, and she runs into the scene, her eyes flaming with anger.

"Haymitch!" she snaps. "How dare you vomit all over this beautifully polished mahogany floor?"

Haymitch doesn't respond, but he does moan and cover his face, looking as if he is ready to pass out. I look away. Nothing is going to help him in this moment. And I certainly don't want to get vomited on. So I don't say a word.

Looking irritated, Haymitch turns and returns to his quarters, which just so happen to be right by the bar car. I laugh to myself at the irony.

"What's funny?" Gale demands.

"Nothing," I tell him, pressing my lips together to keep another laugh from spilling out.

Effie fumes, rocking back on her heels and vaulting out of the room. Her plans have been destroyed, and all her work has been vanquished. She's not happy. And that is one of the first moments in this experience I feel pleasure.

I laugh again, this time aloud, and Gale joins in, knowing what I'm laughing at. We can't stop laughing, and eventually have to sit down, our faces red and our bodies aching. When we finally stop and catch our breaths, Gale grins at me. His eyes are full of happiness, even though he shouldn't be happy. We're going into an arena to die soon and only one of us can survive.

As he realizes my train of thoughts, his smile fades. We are not to be happy; we are to be depressed. Cold. Calculating. Preparing to say our goodbyes to this earth. Willing to go, but also willing to fight. Not happy. And far from it.

"So this is it then." Gale's voice is so low I barely catch the words, but I do. Of course I do.

I nod almost imperceptibly, but Gale sees it. "Well, then I want to say something. Something I've been meaning to tell you since that day I met you in the woods. Something that's been bugging me a lot recently, Catnip."

"What is it?" I ask, not looking directly at him. But Gale is not one for beating around the bush. He takes my chin and lifts my face so that I have to look directly in his eyes. When I'm staring deep into the Seam-grey, he speaks.

"I love you." The words ring with sincerity. "I'm in love with you, Katniss. I've been in love with you since the day I met you, even though I've only recently realized it. I want you to survive the arena. To go home and tell everyone how much I loved you. That will be the true victory in my eyes. Because if I go home without you, there will be no point in me winning."

"Gale..." I whisper, staring into his eyes and unable to feel anything but what I feel in this moment. That Gale does love me. That he is willing to die to protect me. This simple notion moves me, and tears are running down my cheeks. Gale will not be a piece in the Capitol's Games, and he will not let me be one either.

"I... I love you too." The words spill out before I can stop them, but the more I think about it, the more they make sense. Gale has been one of my only friends since I've grown up. He understands the pain and the hardship I've had to suffer in District 12, and he knows just how terrible we've all had it—hell, he's had it bad himself. Gale is the fire I need to keep me alive. The assurance that, no matter how bad it is, the sun can rise again and fight against the dark clouds.

So of course I kiss him. I must kiss him.

My lips brush against his lightly at first, but as the emotion charges within me, I press my lips closer to his with a vengeance. My eyes close as our lips finally meet, and I kiss him with a passion I never knew I could withstand. Gale's warm breath blows when the kiss breaks, and it feels good against my still-outstretched lip. I sit that way for a long time, my lip extended, waiting for Gale to say something. When he doesn't, I open my eyes.

Gale is sitting there. He stares at my face with a look that's not far from insanity. He moans softly as he bites his lip.

"What is it?" I ask him, because it's so obvious he's in pain.

"I don't want to lose you," he admits, his face flushing red. "I know one of us is going to die in these Games. But I have a terrible feeling it's going to be you. And I don't want to lose you, Katniss."

I've never seen him this way. So emotional. So in pain. So unsure of himself. Frankly, it's not a vision I like. The strong, powerful Gale I've grown used to over the years has faded, and there is only this. "You won't," I assure him, even though it breaks my heart to say so. "I'll live, and I'll go home and be with my mother and Prim."

"Please," he whispers, his voice breaking.

Just at that moment, Effie barges into the room, her eyes on the mess of vomit on the floor. "Clean!" she shouts, and a Capitol maid rushes from one of the cars I didn't see and begins to clean up the mess almost instantly. She looks at us. "We'll be arriving in the Capitol in about thirty minutes." She sees the disconcertion in our eyes, the pain. "What... what happened?"

"Long story, Effie," Gale says coldly. I'm sure he doesn't mean to be mean. Wait, scratch that—of course he means to be mean. She's a servant of the Capitol, the enemy in his eyes. Why should he care about her feelings?

"Emotion. So raw and pure. Keep that on your face. The Capitol crowd will just love it!" Effie gushes, smiling and turning from the room. In that moment, I hate her. She is nothing but a mutt with a Capitol pedigree. She cares nothing for our lives, only to how we make her look in the Capitol. And that means she cares nothing about us.

I hate them. I hate them. I realize I'm saying the words aloud, loud enough for Gale to hear me but not the Capitol maid, who's almost done cleaning up the mess. "I do, too," he whispers. "But now's not the time to voice that. Come on."

I understand what he means. We're on a Capitol train, which is surely bugged. Now is not the time to be openly speaking of rebellion against them. I nod.

Gale and I stare into each other's eyes for a long moment. For the six years I have known him, not once has his expression changed, even though the face around it has grown. Now, it has. His eyes look fiercely at me, longingly. He wants to protect me, now more than anything. I blush at the notion.

Gale blinks. "I guess we wait."

"We wait," I agree.

We sit down at the table and continue to stare into each other's eyes. As I did earlier, I imagine a beautiful world. A world where Gale and I could lie, his arms wrapped around me. Concealed from the Games. Gone from the pain that has stolen us since our birth. Away from the darkness that shrouds our society. Free.

I think about how I would never have kids, not in the current society at least. How having kids would be a desperate move at this point. I do not want any child of mine to be in the Games. But if I had to have kids, I would have them with Gale. We could teach them to hunt. Prepare them for what may be their inevitable future. Coerce them into their destiny.

I stare into Gale's worn face, wondering if what I said earlier was true. Do I truly love him? If so, do I love him enough to let him go? If this is what he truly wants, how can I not give it to him? For him? For my mother and Prim?

I hold out my hand, a silent message that even if the plan to keep me alive does not work, we will always be together. Gale stares at it for a moment before his fingers twine through mine. He smiles, though it doesn't reach his eyes, and recites: "And may the odds—"

"Be _ever _in your favor," I finish.

...

**I'm so excited that I finally got the chance to update this story! I'm sorry that the chapters are so short, but it's the best way to write with the Hunger Games. This chapter didn't have much story development, but it did have emotional development, between Katniss/Gale. I'm thinking of redoing the entire trilogy from this storyline, but I don't know for sure yet. **

** What got me motivated to continue is seeing **_**The Hunger Games **_**movie again. After writing the second chapter, I went into my House of Night phase, which is why I updated only **_**Battled **_**for a long time. If you guys are tiring of my long-time for updates—I'm sorry, but it takes a while to write chapters, and then to edit them so my mistakes aren't too terrible. **

** I'm a Peeniss shipper, but I love the idea of Gale going in, so expect an update on this one soon. Next chapter, we should see the Capitol. Love you guys!**

** XOXO,**

** Casey**


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